Summer Kisses (259 page)

“You’ll do fine.” His off-hand words and disinterest eroded her small store of self-esteem.

“I’m just worried about the kids.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “They were supposed to be here ten minutes ago.”

A spasm of distaste crossed his face. “How many of them are coming?”

“Three. Or four.” Seven, she silently amended. Or eight.

As a nominee, she’d been invited to present witnesses to testify about the impact of her project. She intended to include as many of the students who had appeared in the film as possible, both the successes and the failures. One side balanced the other and confirmed the story she’d wanted to convey.

During the four years of production for
Challenging Destiny
, Annabel found it impossible to remain aloof from the students. In real life, she couldn’t help comparing the difficulties they faced in their lives to the relative ease of those lead by Carly and her friends just a few miles away. With a slight shift in birth and geography, economics and opportunity, their lives would have been switched.

After Annabel had earned their trust, the teens often turned to her for help and advice. Sometimes she’d filled the role of social worker, mentor, or confidante, and she had grown to know and care for them all. They meant much more to her now than the subjects of a film. They were friends. With the project over, many still kept in touch.

“They’ll either get here or they won’t.” Howard’s lack of concern came as no surprise. His opposition to their presence had been a sore spot between them for days.

The elevator door opened, and two of the students stepped out. Keisha, currently a college student, and Sukari, an unwed mother who hadn’t managed to graduate, but planned to get her GED soon.

Sukari had her little one with her, leading the toddler by the hand. “Come on, now, Kenyon, don’t make mama any later.” She picked the boy up and carried him. “Sorry, Ms. Morgan. My sister didn’t tell me ‘til the last minute that she couldn’t babysit. But my Kenyon, he’s a good boy and he won’t cause trouble. Will you, fella?”

Annabel welcomed both girls. “I’m glad you brought Kenyon with you, Sukari. Look how big he’s gotten.” Annabel tickled the baby’s tummy and gave the young women hugs. “It’s great to see all three of you! Come tell me how things are going.”

A few minutes later, two of her young male subjects showed up. DeSean, an aspiring sound technician/record producer, smiled and hugged Annabel, always eager to please. Warren, recently released from jail on a drug charge, scowled, like a stray dog waiting for the next kick or curse. Soon Jonah, Viper, and Selena—two former gang members and a cheerleader—joined the growing group.

“I’m so pleased you’re all here with me today.” Annabel picked up baby Kenyon from the floor. He pulled her hair, tugged on an earring, and stuck his fingers in her mouth before giving her a smacking kiss on the check and wiggling to get down.

Everyone else laughed at his curiosity and energy, but Howard frowned over the growing crowd. Dismissing them as beneath his attention, he pulled out his phone and began scrolling.

The volatile combination of Warren and Viper worried Annabel a bit, but she smiled and chatted, doing her best to keep the former rivals apart. The eight teens sprawled across the chairs, benches, and tables, ignoring her boss and his disdain.

The elevator doors slid open again. With her group complete, she looked up to see who else had shown up. Her pulse registered off the Richter scale at the sight of Max.

She’d spent most of the past two sleepless nights reviewing their stupid argument. Despite feeling that it was best to leave things alone between them, a happy-to-see-him smile bloomed on her face. Remembering his last words to her, she wiped it from her mouth faster than smeared lipstick.

She doubted she ranked high on his list of favorite people these days either. But of course, when had she? Saturday, maybe. Briefly. Now, she noticed the lack of his attention the way she’d miss warm gloves on a cold winter’s day.

Wearing dark pants, a charcoal sport coat, and a shirt the color of coconut cream, he looked good enough to eat. With his strong shoulders, flat stomach, muscular arms, and narrow hips, it was impossible to forget she’d spent hours snuggled up against that gorgeous display of masculinity.

But today, Annabel could only watch as a Double D bimbo with big hair and spray-on clothes clung to him like an inflatable life vest. Well, if that was the kind of woman he was attracted to...
Fine.

“Hello, there, Morgan, Howard.” He shook hands with her boss, shifted his gaze over her and ran a glance over the rest of her companions. “You’ve got quite a crowd here.”

Her defenses rose in reaction to the quick, dismissive perusal. “Couldn’t you find anyone to speak up for your project?”

“Shawntel is all I need.” He patted the woman’s hand and began making introductions.

Annabel’s boys drooled over the bimbo’s buxom display.

Even Howard seemed fascinated by the overflowing bounty. “Take my seat, Shawntel.” He jumped up to make room for her.

“I guess we’re early,” Shawntel said in a whispery little voice.  Sinking into the vacated spot, she finally released her grip on Max.

“No, the committee’s running behind.” Howard peeled back his cuff to check the time. “We should have been in and out of there by now.”

Max practically smothered the bimbo with attention for a few moments. “Do you need a sweater? Some water? Anything?”

“I’m fine, Max.” She shooed him away with a sweet smile. “Don’t hover.”

Satisfied she was settled comfortably, he turned to Annabel’s friends. “Are all y’all here for Annabel? Nice show of support.”

“Hey,” Malcolm said. “You’re the dude on the news.”

“That’s right,” Keisha agreed. “I’ve seen you on TV. Are you here to witness for
Challenging Destiny
, too?”

“Not today.” He flashed his television smile. “Although I’ve heard it’s very good.”

“Damn straight. It’s got me in it, don’t it?” Keisha planted an adamant fist on her hip and drew hoots of laughter from her friends.

“Then maybe I’ll put in a good word for it,” Max said, finally turning to Annabel. “You’re looking less buttoned-down than usual, Morgan.” He flicked a finger at the collar she’d left undone that morning. He seemed careful not to graze her skin, but his natural magnetism almost sucked her into his force field anyway. “Any reason?”

She clutched the top two buttons of her blouse. Years of personal self-analysis made it clear to her why she’d hidden behind her straightjacket clothes all these years. But this morning, she knew she didn’t want to continue camouflaging herself that way. Max’s preferences weighed not at all on the decision.
Right?

“It’s hot in here.” She fanned her face with her hand.

“Like it was hot in the restaurant on Saturday?” he asked as Kenyon toddled over and tugged on his pant leg. Without hesitation, he picked the child up and tucked him into the crook of his elbow. “Hey, there, little fella.”

“Ms. Morgan, Mr. Lasting,” said a woman from the door. “Thank you for your patience. Please follow me.”

Lynn Dorey, one of the other nominees, swept haughtily through the lobby and left with her entourage.

“Us, too?” Keisha asked.

“Not just yet.” The woman took a tentative step back as she surveyed the boisterous group. “We’ll call the rest of you in a little later.”

Annabel stood up, indicating the place on the bench she’d just vacated. “Looks like there’ll be a crowd out here for a while longer. Would you like to slip into my seat?” she asked Max.

“I’d love to slip into your seat, Annabel.”

He answered her so smoothly that the innuendo didn’t register until DeSean, Warren and the others laughed and elbowed one another. Even Shawntel choked back a giggle. Howard looked rather pained.

If it had been Max’s intention to fluster her before her interview, she refused to let on that he accomplished it. “Come on, Howard.”  Annabel pulled him away from the charming Shawntel. “We’re up.”

Annabel’s presentation went well, all things considered. At first, her nerves got the best of her, and she read from her prepared comments. But by the time the panel began questioning her, she spoke coherently and authoritatively. For his part, Howard bragged about Lasting Productions, but gave her most of the credit for the documentary.

After the students came in, the tone of the interview shifted again. They were wonderfully candid about the impact the film had on their lives. Their mature behavior and comments filled her with pride.

At the conclusion of the interview, the kids huddled around her in the waiting area, exchanging hugs and high fives. She thanked them for their participation and urged them to keep in touch even as her gaze strayed to Max.

He and Shawntel sat cozied up to one another.
Thank heavens I made the right decision and didn’t sleep with him.
He had the attention span of a gnat. How mortifying it must be to occupy just another space in his long line of women.

“Let us know how the award thing turns out,” DeSean said as they headed toward the elevator and stairs.

“I’ll text you after the ceremony,” she promised. “And good luck with your interview on Friday, DeSean.”

“Thanks, Ms. Morgan, but I won’t need luck.” He grinned. “I’m good enough without it.”

“Absolutely, but be sure to use me as a reference if you want to.”

“I won’t need that either.” DeSean threw a salute to someone behind her. “Max knows the owner of the record company. He said he’d call and put in a good word for me.”

“He did, huh?” She shouldn’t resent his offer to help. Very generous, but for some reason, she felt like he’d purposely upstaged her. “Well, then, you’re a shoe-in.”

When Howard stopped to talk to Shawntel, Annabel decided to confront Max about making promises he didn’t intend to keep. Just as she reached his side, he cursed.

“Sorry,” she said, stung by the show of displeasure. “I guess this isn’t the best time to talk.”

He checked the screen on his phone. “I need to take this call. I’ll be right back.” He touched her elbow, squeezed the bimbo’s knee, and strode to the other end of the hall with his cell phone in hand.

Annabel sighed and turned to Howard, ready to herd him back to work and leave all thoughts of Max Williams behind. Charley Asherton, the manager at Max’s television station, had arrived at some point and now sat beside Shawntel, vying with Howard for her attention.

“Good of you to be here,” Charley said to the bimbo. “Not every woman would want to be publicly identified as one of the patients in Max’s series.”

Annabel gave herself a mental ka-thunk to the forehead. Of course, the D-cups on display had been surgically enhanced.

“That was you?” A mix of curiosity and sympathy softened Howard’s voice.

“I didn’t want everyone to know my identity, but I’d do anything to help Max,” Shawntel explained to the two men. “If it hadn’t been for him, that butcher would still be running loose, pretending to be a competent surgeon, disfiguring other women.”

“Just the botched surgeries should have been enough to have his license revoked,” Charley said. “But the shoddy implants he performed on you and other women after living through the horror of mastectomies… Well, that was more than incompetence. It was criminal negligence.”

“I wasn’t getting anywhere with the proper legal channels,” she explained. “If Max hadn’t done his series, it might have been years before my case got in front of the medical review board and the courts.” Shawntel looked at Annabel, who cringed inwardly. She felt like a prize idiot. Again.

She had dismissed Max’s series as a forum for strippers and showgirls who wanted to increase their chest size. Why hadn’t she realized the piece was about breast cancer patients? How Max must have laughed at her narrow-minded, ill-informed attitude.

“At first,” Shawntel continued, “he didn’t want to use my specific case in the series, but I kept after him. You know how he is about family. He can never refuse any of us anything.”

“You’re family?” A sharp sense of relief pricked the back of Annabel’s brain, mixing with even greater humiliation.

Shawntel nodded. “We’re cousins. Didn’t you know? Everyone used to say we looked alike. I guess that was before I became a blonde.”

“Yes, of course.” Waves of shame from her unkind and suspicious thoughts swamped Annabel. “There’s a definite resemblance.”

“How’s your health now?” Charley asked Shawntel. “Max said you’re still in remission, and your last reconstruction surgery was more successful.”

“Ye-es.” She bit her cotton candy pink lip. “But I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Of course, just being here is bound to wear you out.” Charley patted her hand. “Have you gone back to work yet?”

“Part-time.” Shawntel smiled brightly. “The sick leave policy at the library is excellent. The library administrator has been very understanding about letting me work shorter hours until I get back to full strength.”

“You work at the library?” Oh, dear God, just kill me now.

Shawntel nodded. “I’m a reference librarian at the Oakley branch. Be sure and call me if you ever need something researched. I’m always happy to help a friend of Max’s.”

Annabel was spared the task of finding her voice as the door opened again and one of the committee members peered out.

“I thought Mr. Williams was here,” the woman said. “We’re ready for his presentation.”

“I’m here, Dottie.” Max strolled up as if on cue. “Everybody ready?” As he went to Shawntel’s side, his solicitous attitude toward his cousin took on a whole new meaning.

Just when Annabel thought he’d ignore her completely, he stopped in front of her. “Too bad we didn’t get a chance to have that talk you wanted. See you around, I guess.”

“Max...” Annabel began as he turned away. “Will you call me later?  There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

His smile turned up the heat. “Did you rethink your position about what’s missing in your life?”

She should have known he’d think that. “No, it’s not about that. I’d like to talk to you about something else.”